November 25, 2008

Our one-time only anniversary

It’s hard to pinpoint a beginning to my relationship with the IC. We had been friends for over a decade, close friends since ‘01, and neither was really sure when it was that we started looking at each other differently. When we grapple for a date, we always come up with “that Tuesday before Thanksgiving in 2007.” It took us a little longer than that to make it official. After all, before he was the IC on this site, he was the guy with whom I shared a netflix account or, Netflix Parter (NFP). Still, “that Tuesday before Thanksgiving” became our official starting point. Last Friday I looked up the actual date of that Tuesday and saw that we had missed our anniversary, it had been the day before. How romantic of us, I thought. But since the date never meant anything, we could still celebrate that day, that Tuesday, today. And as IC says, we’re only celebrating this day once. By this time next year, we’ll have a whole new anniversary, the realest kind.

Chuck Klosterman had a quoted-everywhere piece a few years ago, from his book “Love, Sex and Cocoa Puffs”, about fake love. I blogged about it here although I didn’t mention the part that I’m thinking of today. He wrote:

“Within three years of its initial release, classifying any intense friendship as “totally a Harry-Met-Sally situation” had a recognizable meaning to everyone, regardless of whether or not they’d actually seen the movie. And that meaning remains clear and remarkably consistent: It implies that two platonic acquaintances are refusing to admit that they’re deeply in love with each other. When Harry Met Sally cemented the plausibility of that notion, and it gave a lot of desperate people hope. It made it realistic to suspect your best friend may be your soul mate, and it made wanting such a scenario comfortably conventional. The problem is that the Harry-Met-Sally situation is almost always tragically unbalanced. Most of the time, the two involved parties are not really “best friends.” Inevitably, one of the people has been in love with the other from the first day they met, while the other person is either (a) wracked with guilt and pressure, or (b) completely oblivious to the espoused attraction. Every relationship is fundamentally a power struggle, and the individual in power is whoever likes the other person less. But When Harry Met Sally gives the powerless, unrequited lover a reason to live. When this person gets drunk and tells his friends that he’s in love with a woman who only sees him as a buddy, they will say, “You’re wrong. You’re perfect for each other. This is just like When Harry Met Sally! I’m sure she loves you—she just doesn’t realize it yet.” Nora Ephron accidentally ruined a lot of lives.”

I actually hate the When Harry Met Sally comparison, only because their “friendship” was a joke compared to ours. They were acquaintances, at best, who happened to be going through difficult life situations at the same time. IC and I were so much realer. We had, at once, a deep, true friendship as well as the funnest interaction imaginable. We’d make each other laugh and make each other think. We’d read the same books. We’d argue about politics (he used to be a liberal but has long since seen the error of his ways). We’d play one-on-one poker and the loser would take the winner to dinner. We’d watch random sports and he’d say “we’re rooting for Carolina” and then we would. And when they’d win he’d buy me the t-shirt. We spoke on the phone or emailed every single day. I set him up with my friends. We were inseparable after 9/11. He was sleeping on my couch when Saddam Hussein was captured. We’d always call dibs on each other to share a room on group trips. I have half a dozen photos of me licking his face through the years. We’d go to the beach all summer and eat seafood afterward, sandy and salty and feeling amazing. He would give me the best advice ever, and be completely honest with the painful truth when he needed to be. We’d argue about Brooklyn v. Queens, and rock music v. hip-hop. The first night we met, he put his arm around me and kept it there. He isn’t the most outgoing person so it was a bit out of character. That memory always amuses me. The friend who introduced us, Frank White (who, awesome sidenote, I also introduced to his fiance, the lovely Yelena who sometimes comments here), was telling us to get together. And ten years later we did!

I encourage you all to run out right now and fall in love with your best friend. There’s really nothing like it. Don’t listen to Klosterman, it’s realistic to suspect your best friend is your soul mate. Mine was, yours might be too. This Thanksgiving, I’m happy we both realized it. Happy anniversary, IC, and many, many more.

I love I knew when he/she REALLY liked me moments.
My moment:
I knew he really liked me when he cleaned his bathroom and bought glade candles to put around his apartment.

Posted by: Lisa at November 25, 2008 at 2:00 pm

Okay, I get it. I was gone for too long, and now you care for somebody else.

Posted by: AxlRose at November 25, 2008 at 2:14 pm

This post put such a smile on my face! You and IC have such a warm and sweet history, it’s beyond romantic. I’m so so so happy for you. Happy Anniversary!!! Do you happen to remember the ‘premonition’ I had in the cab on our way to the Smith party? Love you!

Posted by: Yelena at November 25, 2008 at 2:55 pm

Do you happen to remember the ‘premonition’ I had in the cab on our way to the Smith party?
Hahaha, no, what was it? Double wedding?

Lol, how quickly you forget. No, it was just that you we going to marry him. And you giggled and changed the topic to how the word premonition isn’t really appropriate cause it conveys something negative.

Posted by: Yelena at November 25, 2008 at 3:11 pm

Hahahaha. You know, that sounds like me! Hope to see you this week! Thanksgiving is all about Brooklyn (who even goes to QUEENS)!

As to your advice: my friend has been in love with me for 10 years. I’m not.
Jeez, at least give him a little sumpin’ sumpin’. Be merciful.

Posted by: Eric at November 25, 2008 at 11:34 pm

Not to downplay this great romance, but there’s a long tradition of platonic pals hooking up on (or around) Thanksgiving Eve. Ask around. Actually, any single guy who can’t get laid on Thanksgiving Eve in Manhattan must have some serious problems.

Posted by: JustAFriend at November 25, 2008 at 11:41 pm

This thread has inspired me!
By New Year’s I’ll have started looking for a best friend.
Mid-March, at the very latest.

It’s still a free country, at least until 22 Jan 09. All afternoon, I’ve been thinking myself niggardly. I even looked the stuff up, and found it for $14 a bottle in New Jersey, but port? That shit does not filter right. Single malt burns clean. I’ve NEVER had a hangover with single malt, or gin, or bourbon. Although I have almost jumped from a moving vehicle on several occasions after consuming Gentleman Jack. Then again, perhaps it’s just a case of chacun

Posted by: Casca at November 27, 2008 at 3:30 am

Tat, I laid out my case last night in a long comment, that awaits moderation. I will abide by the verdict of Judge Karol. Don’t be trying to bribe the judge!

Posted by: Casca at November 27, 2008 at 10:55 am

You might abide – but I don’t have to: I didn’t choose Karol for Judge. On what authority?
as a small aside: I don’t appreciate “hebrew” jokes. Seriously.